Sometimes I feel like I live in a Norman Rockwell calendar. My sister-in-law and her husband come from Seattle for a visit, along with my father-in-law's mother from Michigan, and we sit together and eat steak and potato salad; blueberry strata for dessert. All of us around a big rectangular table, my kids happy as clams to be with family they haven't seen in a while, the baby in my belly happy as can be that my in-laws know how to cook.
I was going to write about all the lovely moments that could have been paintings in the Saturday Evening Post, but now I've been distracted. I've mentioned food. We went to The Safehouse, an unmarked restaurant in Milwaukee that you need a password to get into and directions to find. Went in through a hidden entrance and (oh, how I love you Goodmans) ate appetizers and food off the grill. My sister-in-law brought cupcakes from Seattle, the kind so good they almost bring tears to your eyes. I for a second typed ears. Sure, sure. If ears could have tears they would, those cupcakes were that good. On the way back to the airport (and here I'm skipping the whole visit, aren't I?) we went to Mona's Turkish Shawarma House, where I discovered Loli's love of felafels, baba ganoush and kosheri. I suppose these moments are less Norman Rockwell now anyway, aren't they? No Palestinians in aviator glasses hanging out in the background in the pictures I've seen. (Actually I can kind of picture it now. The kind where laundry is hanging above on a clothesline between tall brick buildings and a couple of guys are standing around a shawarma stand. Right?)
This whole thing is too rambly. I don't know what I'm saying. I'll blame it on my sister-in-law. She's the kind of friend who you can absolutely lose track of what you're talking about with and it's perfect, just perfect. She's indulgent and I love her.
So you, reader, whoever you may be, you indulge me too. Pretend I've said something of merit; pretend there's some sort of a conclusion. It would take thousands of words to summarize all the moments we had, and I just can't do it.
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